Was My Mom Blind? Poem by Rahman Henry

Smelling the darkness you could understand
Nights were coming down to the earth

And you breed that blind fish,
A half alive and other half is dead,
Inside the salinity of your eyes;

This night is my Mom
And also the darkness is
These memories are as sweet as pain is

Smelling the wind you used to say,
'It must rain heavily in our village.'
But have I ever heard any song
Heavier than the weeping in my Mom's melody!